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Monday, February 27, 2012

Space Exploration and the Humanities

Space Exploration and the Humanities

Good news for those interested in the relationship between space exploration and the humanities and social sciences. The book Imagining Outer Space, edited by Alexander CT Geppert is finally out. You may remember that I wrote about it some time ago. You may want to take a look at the website of Palgrave MacMillan, the publisher:

On related news, "Envisioning Limits: Outer Space and the End of Utopia," a sequel conference to the "Imagining Outer Space" symposium, which was the basis of the book, will take place in Berlin at the end of April. Please see for further details, some of which are provided below in this posting:

Envisioning Limits:
Outer Space and the End of Utopia

Berlin, 19 - 21 April 2012



Program (>pdf)

Abstracts (>pdf)

Bios (>pdf)

updated: 10.02.2012

If space exploration is understood as not just one of the twentieth century’s most prestigious feats of engineering, but also a central theme in period visions of the future and utopias, then how might we understand the transition from the 1960s to the 1970s, with its emphasis on re­duced possibilities and limitations to progress? The conference aims to shift the focus away from explanations of transition from Cold War contexts and produce more nuanced narratives: from the familiar struggle between two superpowers, namely the USA and the former USSR, to dis­tinctly West-European perspectives, and from political to socio-cultural dimensions of the Space Age. How were limits created, chal­lenged and maintained? And in what sense was outer space invoked to transform cultural boundaries and how were these conveyed to different audiences? The conference will look at utopia not as a so­cio-cultural objective but rather as a process. Through defining limitless opportunities afforded by outer space, advocates of space exploration not only opened up new possibilities for accelerating or even surpassing human development, but also delineated the historicity and limitations of the imagination.

Conference speakers include Debbora Battaglia (Mount Holyoke College), Martin Collins (National Air and Space Museum), David A. Kirby (University of Manchester), John Krige (Georgia Institute of Technology), Agnes Meyer-Brandis (Universität der Künste Berlin), Roger D. Launius (National Air and Space Museum) and Helmuth Trischler (Deutsches Museum).

For further information and to register please contact the conveners Alexander C.T. Geppert, William R. Macauley and Daniel Brandau at There is a conference fee of 50 € (concessions 25 €) to cover the cost of food, drinks and refreshments during the event.

Conference Venue

Harnack-Haus der Max-Planck-Gesellschaft
Ihnestrasse 16-20
D-14195 Berlin

THURSDAY, 19 April 2012

09.00 Introduction

Alexander C.T. Geppert, Daniel Brandau, William R. Macauley:
The 1970s, Western Europe and the Delineation of Space

09.30 Feature Presentation I

Martin Collins: Ambiguities of the 1970s: Spaceflight and the Problem of Historically Interpreting the In-Between Decade

11.00 Panel I: Transitions

Andrew Jenks: Transnational History and Human Spaceflight

Doug Millard: Were the 1970s a Period of Transition for the History of Britain’s Exploration of Space?

Program (pdf)
Abstracts (pdf)
Bios (pdf)

updated: 10.02.2012

Chair: Paul Nolte

14.00 Panel II: Pictures

Robert Poole: '2001: A Space Odyssey': Space Travel and the Ends of Progress

Ralf Bülow: The X Files: Reading a West German Sci-Tech Magazine from 1969 to 1973

Chair: Thomas P. Weber

16.00 Panel III: Laws

Luca Follis: Beyond Law’s Frontier: The Normative Imaginary of Outer Space

Virgiliu Pop: The Moon Agreement and the Beginning of Utopia

Chair: Peter Becker

19.00 Feature Presentation II

Agnes Meyer-Brandis: Space Traveling: A Performence-Lecture Examining Real Utopian Aspects of Interplanetary Exchange of Idea and Matter

FRIDAY, 20 April 2012

09.00 Feature Presentation III

John Krige: Blowback, Lift Off: The Rise of Ariane and the Decline of U.S. Monopoly of Access to Space in the 1970s

Chair: William R. Macauley

10.15 Panel IV: Politics

Matthew H. Hersch: 'On the Edge of Forever:' 1972 and the New American Space Consensus

Neil M. Maher: Ground Control: Space Technology, Environmentalism, and Détente Across the Developing World

Chair: Etienne Benson

13.00 Panel V: Texts

Florian Kläger: Reading into the Stars: Cosmology and Self-Reflexivity in the British Novel of the 1970s

Aleksandra Idzior: Images of Extraterrestrial Life and Designs for 'Out-of-Space' in Poland during the 1960s and 1970s

Chair: Matthias Schwartz

15.00 Panel VI: Aesthetics

Christina Vatsella: Artworks in Orbit: The Satellite Art Projects

Thore Bjørnvig: Unlimited Play in a World of Limits: The Lego Classic Space Theme, 1978-80

Chair: Claudia Schmölders

17.00 Panel VII: Prospects

Philippe Ailleris: Red Soil, Phonograph Records and United Nations Resolution 33/426: Our 1970s Extraterrestrial Heritage

Janet Vertesi and Lisa Messeri: The Greatest Mission Never Flown: Mars Sample Return, Terrestrial Planet Finder, and the Limits of Utopia

Chair: Debbora Battaglia

SATURDAY, 21 April 2012

09.00 Panel VIII: Habitats

W. Patrick McCray: Gerard O'Neill’s Visioneering of the 'High Frontier'

Gonzalo Munévar: Space Colonies and their Critics

Chair: Thomas Brandstetter

11.00 Panel IX: Transcendence

Peter J. Westwick: From the Club of Rome to Star Wars: The Era of Limits, Space Colonization, and the Origins of the Strategic Defense Initiative

Roger D. Launius: Human Spaceflight as Religion in the Aftermath of the Space Race

Chair: Helmuth Trischler

14.00 Conclusion

David A. Kirby: General Comment

Chair: Alexander C.T. Geppert

16.00 End

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Play, Human Nature and Exploration: Some Speculations

Chapter 11B

Play, Human Nature and Exploration: Some Speculations

That delight of finding things out, of satisfying curiosity, may on occasion be a search for beauty, as Poincare may have thought, but on the whole it is more properly associated with play. This is not to deny that the search for beauty may itself be a form of play. Nor is it to deny that in play we may find beauty ‑‑a claim to which many people who have engaged in sports would testify. In any event, there is nothing mysterious in that nature should have made us such that we enjoy exercising our skills and developing our talents through play.

When an animal can grow only in a very specific environment, play is probably not very crucial. The animal may be better off rehearsing the specific tasks that will be needed for survival later on. But to the extent that an animal is to meet an open‑ ended environment, it pays to develop all sort of perceptual and motor skills in many combinations. This flexibility will permit the animal to adapt to a greater range of environments. The difference between fixed exercises, such as calisthenics, and play is precisely that whereas specific traits are developed in the first, an exploration of the individuals' abilities takes place in the second.

Although this is not the place to embark into a fully fledged biology of play, at least two qualifications are in order. The first is that there need be no connection between the animal having played while young and its exhibiting a very flexible response later in life. A species may not be restricted to any specific environment, in which case play by its young may be very advantageous to it. But once that species finds itself in a particular environment, the flexibility of its members allows them to try out ways of developing their skills that eventually lead to an optimal interaction with that environment. As that begins to happen, the range of behavior begins to narrow as well. Presumably the adult animals become fairly well adapted and can afford to be as rigid as those other animals that were "designed" for that specific environment.

Thus we see that ravens, for example, grow up to be scavengers in some habitats and predators in others. The species is flexible, and its playing young are flexible, but the individual adults need not be. In a species such as homo sapiens, in which the adult may continue to deal with an open environment, the advantages of prolonged youth and of flexibility in the adult are evident. And indeed contemporary biology ascribes a "neotonous" nature to humans (neoteny permits the retention of immature characters in adulthood).

The second qualification is this. In perfecting its responses to the pressing demands of a specific environment, an animal may receive direct and immediate dividends. The rationale for perfecting those responses is thus obvious. But what mechanisms might evolve to motivate the rehearsal of skills whose application is indirect and far in the future? The question is no longer whether play is biologically advantageous to some species. The answer to that question is yes. The present question concerns rather how the individual animals are led to play.

This demand for a mechanism can be met ‑‑ at least in some cases ‑‑ by proposing that the central nervous system is so constituted that it gives positive feedback (enjoyment) to the animal as it attempts to realize a variety of potentials in a "field released from tension", to borrow Konrad Lorenz's jargon. It is precisely the independence from immediate demands of the environment that permits the trying out of so many skills in so many combinations. And thus it is that independence in action that needs to be encouraged by the response of the central nervous system.[15 play requires some intelligence] It is not difficult, then, to see the biological rationale for evolving such a mechanism. We humans call it play and do enjoy it.

One of the characteristics of play is that it can be applied to a wide range of skills. In particular, it provides a very apt training regimen for developing those skills connected with intelligence, since they often have to do with indirect or postponed action. Intelligence has a role in social interaction, and thus there is a link to social play. But my concern at this time is with intelligence as a means of interacting with nature. And here is where the association with curiosity that Lorenz mentioned comes in.

Some animals which exhibit a great flexibility of response towards the environment ‑‑ "specialists in non‑specialization" ‑‑ also exhibit a great deal of curiosity. Such curiosity is typically present in a field released from tension, just as play is. In other words, curiosity is characterized by independence from the pressing demands of the environment; and it is, as far as we can tell, an enjoyable pursuit. Although it is clear that much play has nothing to do with curiosity, it is nonetheless plausible to think of curiosity as a form of play of a cognitive subject with its environment.

The object of the play, in this case, seems to be the development of the skills by which an individual can gain knowledge of its world. And it should be obvious that in developing such skills an individual actually does come to know its environment better. In species in which learning comes to an end when the individual is reasonably well adapted to a particular environment, those bits of knowledge obtained through the satisfaction of curiosity are of the greatest importance. In species whose individuals keep their mental flexibility for a good portion of their lives, the playful interaction with the environment is bound to continue. In humans, who sometimes tend toward what Poincare would have called "pure intelligence", that playful interaction may take on some very abstract forms.

Here is thus my account of the "delight" of science ‑‑an account rooted in our very nature. But this is an account that firmly links curiosity with our means of interacting with nature; and so presumably it links curiosity with what is useful. As I have argued, the product of our rehearsals in our exploratory relation with nature is the scientific views that we propose and sometimes believe. In the open‑ended environment that we face, however, we are unlikely to get a perfect conceptual adaptation the first time out. Fortunately, we do seem to be specialists in non‑ specialization: as long as social factors do not override our playful drives, as long as the field remains released from tension, we are quite able to come up with new combinations of intellectual and observational skills. And as our conceptual game with nature endures, so does our ability to adapt to a changing environment or to move into new niches. To the extent that science is a means for our intelligence to interact with the universe, the dynamic character of science is a consequence of our nature. And as our views change in accordance with that dynamic character, so changes the panorama of problems and opportunities that becomes available to our species. That is the final link that connects Poincare's delight with the practicality of science in the long run.

If the forces that motivate exploration are so connected with Poincare's delight, other aspects of exploration fall into place. An important reward of play comes when a new stage of performance arises from the combination and development of skills. When we find it we see it as the goal we had been groping for ‑‑ such is the feel of the perfectly kicked ball, of the graceful turn in the air, of the solution to a hard problem. If we have reason to believe that stage had never been reached before, we become aware of how far we have reached, and our sense of accomplishment is naturally so much greater. In attempting to satisfy our curiosity, the equivalent sense of accomplishment comes from being the first to find something that turns out to be important; and in the case of intellectual curiosity we may add the accomplishment of devising a view that can perform intellectually as no other did before. And thus the pursuit of the new combination, of the new vision, of the new land edges us on. It is the discovery of the new that constitutes the biggest prize. That is the sense of discovery implicit in play, and in the delight that accompanies it.

We can now brush aside objections to the effect that scientists often work with no applications in mind, that they do not accept or reject scientific theories on any practical basis. For the scientists' lack of such awareness, or even unconscious intention, cannot detract from the practical value (we might say adaptive) of scientific curiosity anymore than it would in the case of the animals which are "specialists in non‑ specialization". Besides, it would be too simpleminded to expect that all scientific work should aim at dealing directly with the environment so as to get results from it. Much of that work is devoted to the mathematical, theoretical, and/or experimental articulation of scientific ideas (thus, in my view, it aims at dealing indirectly with the environment). And much other work attempts the integration of experience into a network that can then be applied (e.g. neo‑Darwinism). It is science as a whole, as our communal spectacles, that might be thought of as an instrument of adaptation.[16]

We can also begin to understand in which sense nature inclines us toward exploration, so that by engaging in it we fulfill ourselves as human beings. Curiosity is imbued in us because it served our ancestors ‑‑ and ourselves ‑‑ well in allowing them to adapt to a variety of environments, in trying novel strategies to deal with any one given environment, and in coping with changing circumstances. That the satisfaction of curiosity is a form of play makes eminent sense given our complex nervous system. But that very system also makes us extremely complex animals, some might say more than mere animals. In exploration we do more than develop our sensory and motor skills, for our intellectual faculties, as we have seen, are precisely the sort most amenable to improvement by the indirect exercise of play.

Furthermore, our potential is achieved only to the extent that our innate abilities develop to match the opportunities offered by the environments (social and physical) that we encounter. The ideal strategy for the fulfillment of our potential would thus include exposure to a variety of environments as well as the freedom to try out, combine, and refine our talents in them ‑‑ a freedom, that is, to play. In exploration, as a form of play aimed to satisfy our curiosity, both individually and collectively, we increase our mastery over nature while finding and developing in us those skills for which we are most suited. We have already seen that in rejecting or slowing down exploration we reject or slow down the refinement and possible replacement of the communal spectacles with which we perceive the universe. We have already discussed the deprivation that may result from that. But now we can go even further. For we have also seen that we by rejecting or slowing down exploration we hamper our own fulfillment as individual human beings and as human societies. This damage goes beyond the failure to achieve our intellectual and scientific potential. For just as our range for exploratory play is rich and complex, our systems of motivation and satisfaction ‑‑ our "feedback mechanisms"‑‑ are also rich and complex. In this case I would speculate that those systems would involve deep and sophisticated emotions. In the case of space exploration they would be associated, at the very least, with wonder, with excitement, with adventure. This is the heart of space exploration.

Monday, January 23, 2012




The account of science presented in Chapter 3 meets with an objection: my notion of a fundamental practicality of science goes against the grain of traditional philosophy of science. Philosophers have observed that scientific theories are seldom accepted or rejected on the basis of their practicality. They have also observed that scientists are more likely to be motivated by the search for truth or the satisfaction of their intellectual curiosity than by the good of mankind. This tradition is eloquently expressed in the words of another great French scientist and philosopher, Henri Poincare, who at the beginning of this century wrote that "the scientist does not study nature because it is useful; he studies it because he delights in it, and he delights in it because it is beautiful. If nature were not beautiful, it would not be worth knowing, and if nature were not worth knowing, life would not be worth living." [10]

For Poincare the beauty that really counted was not that of "qualities and appearances" ‑‑ the beauty accessible to most human beings ‑‑ but rather that "profounder beauty which comes from the harmonious order of the parts, and which a pure intelligence can grasp."[11] That sentiment is not surprising in one who dedicated his life to understanding nature. But not all humans are so dedicated, and some of them have interests that would not coincide in the slightest with those of a mathematical physicist like Poincare. Nevertheless I think that Poincare was right in saying that scientists seldom study nature because it is useful. But I would stress a consequence, perhaps unintended, of his argument: that because life is worth living, nature is worth knowing.

The reason is that there is a sense in which the satisfaction of scientific curiosity has something akin to adaptive value. To see this more clearly it is helpful to consider how the nature of science arises from the nature of man. And by the nature of man I have in mind that human beings are biological products of their universe, as much a part of that universe as trees and stars. Let me begin, then, by pointing out that curiosity has adaptive value in animals. Of course not all animals have curiosity, but those that do, say the Norway rat or the raven, can adapt to a great variety of environments or to a changing environment. Curiosity, most often in the spirit of play leads them to obtain knowledge of the environment in which they find themselves. Curiosity is thus the key to their flexibility ("specialists in non‑specialization," Konrad Lorenz called them), and their flexibility is the key to their adaptive success.[12] We must also remember that the structures that underlie intelligence are biological. As a result, Jean Piaget says that intelligence " the most highly developed form of mental adaptation, that is to say, the indispensable instrument for interaction between the subject and the universe when the scope of this interaction goes beyond immediate and momentary contacts to achieve far‑ reaching and stable relations."

In short, intelligence has adaptive value. But science is not only a product of intelligence: it is also a means by which intelligence conceives of the universe, as we have seen. In such a case, should not science be expected to have adaptive value as well? Many of the lines of argument developed in this chapter should testify in favor of this claim (e.g. the relation between theoretical achievement and realization of opportunity or of danger). It must be kept in mind, however, that not all our faculties were selected for their present uses. But there is no suggestion here that human brains were selected for atomic physics or to build space telescopes. The selective forces had long done their job before humans thought of atoms or rockets. Nonetheless this consideration does not prevent a faculty developed for something else to acquire adaptive value of its own. And in the case of science the connection is even closer than that, as I will discuss next time.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012



First let me wish you all a happy new year. To meet some requests, I have enclosed below a list of my own formal academic publications on the philosophy of space exploration. If you know of other academic publications in this new filed, please let me know. I will collect any such for a while and publish the list in a future posting.


"Report of an Interdisciplinary Course on Space Exploration," with John C. Kasher, in Social Sciences and Space Exploration, NASA Ep-192, 1984.

"Rhetorical Grounds for Determining what is Fundamental Science: The Case of Space Exploration," in Argument and Social Practice, J.R. Cox, M.O. Sillars, and G.W. Walker, eds., Speech Communication Association, 1985, pp. 420-434.

"Philosophy, Space Science and the Justification of Space Exploration," Essays on Creativity and Science, Diana M. DeLuca, ed. HCTE, Hawaii, 1986, pp. 89-96.

"Pecking Orders and the Rhetoric of Science," Explorations in Knowledge, Vol. III, No. 2, Spring, 1986, pp. 43-48.

"Space Colonies and the Philosophy of Space Exploration," Space Colonization: Technology and the Liberal Arts, C.H. Holbrow, A.M. Russell & G.F. Sutton, eds., American Institute of Physics, Conference Proceedings 148, 1986, pp. 2-12.

"Filosofía y la Evaluación de la Tecnología Espacial," Arbor, May 1988, No. 509, Tomo CXXX, pp. 59-72.

"Human and Extraterrestrial Science," Explorations in Knowledge, Vol. 6, No. 2, 1989, pp. 1-9.

"Why Should Philosophy Influence Science Policy: The Case of Space Exploration," Explorations in Knowledge, vol. 13, No. 1, 1996, pp. 9-17.

“Philosophy and the Exploration of the Solar System,” Philosophic Exchange, No. 28: 1997-1998, pp. 56-61.

“A Philosopher Looks at Space Exploration,” as Chapter 13, Munevar G., Evolution and the Naked Truth, Ashgate, 1998, pp 169-179.

“SETI, Self-Reproducing Machines and Impossibility Proofs,” as Chapter 15, Munevar G., Evolution and the Naked Truth, Ashgatge, 1998, pp. 189-195.

“Venus y el Fin del Mundo,” Eidos, Vol. 4, March 2006, pp. 10-25.

“Humankind in Outer Space,” The International Journal of Technology, Knowledge and Society, Vol. 4, No. 5, 2008, pp. 17-25.

“Einstein y el límite de la velocidad de la luz,” in Guerrero G. (ed.) Einstein: Científico y filósofo, Programa Editorial Universidad del Valle, 2011, pp. 291-308.

“Self-Reproducing Automata and the Impossibility of SETI.” Forthcoming in Geppert, A. (ed.) Imagining Outer Space, Palgrave Macmillan.